The Enemy of My Enemy
by Forever I Will Glow
Summary: Pitch Black was sent back to a life of misery and shame about four years ago. The Guardians are doing pretty well...until they realize there's a new threat. And he's not on Pitch's side, either. Sometimes, the enemy of your enemy isn't your friend.


_**Aight, guys, we're gonna give this one a shot. **_

_**I started writing this a while ago, but I didn't feel like I could stay committed to it. Now I decided I'm gonna do my best. This is my first Rise of the Guardians multi-chapter thing, so kinda bear with me, here. **__**I know this is kinda short, but they'll get longer. This was gonna originally be a prologue, but then it bothers me when the number of chapters doesn't match up with the actual chapter number. Sorry, I'm OCD like that.**_

_**I'm open to criticism, as long as it's constructive. Thank you for reading, and reviews are appreciated! **_

**Chapter One**

Twelve year-old Jamie Bennett was not afraid of the dark.

No way. Maybe that was okay to be when you were seven, like his little sister, Sophie, but he was almost a teenager and no longer found fear in silly things like the dark. Or at least, that's what he told himself.

But he'd fought and even defeated the Boogeyman himself about three years back. He'd helped Jack Frost and the rest of the guardians send Pitch Black back down to his dark little hole. So why should he fear anything—especially the dark—when he knew he could defeat it? He'd done it before.

Yet, he found himself flinching at every little sound, his big brown eyes wildly darting, as if he was scanning the dark bedroom for any possible intruders. The word _monsters_ popped into his head, but he tried to shove that thought out immediately.

A knock on his window made him nearly jump out of his skin. His head whipped to face the glass to his right and sighed with relief to see that it was only the old tree branch tapping as usual. _Get a grip, Jamie_, he scolded himself. _If your friends could see you now…_

The boy spotted the flashlight that had rested on his nightstand since he was a young kid. He knew he'd never be able to get to sleep without assuring himself that nothing was wrong; that he wasn't in danger. He grabbed the flashlight and flicked it on, moving the beam over the dark corners and shadows of the room. Nothing out of the ordinary that he could see. Just in case, he climbed out of bed and pulled his closet door open. He scanned the light across the darkness, but all that was visible were shirts, shoes, and a few posters that had fallen down over the years.

He softly shut the closet door and moved to check under the bed. Jamie felt stupid for even bothering, but the Boogeyman was real, and he knew it. But even though the Boogeyman _was _real, he wasn't anywhere near Jamie Bennett that night. When there was nothing under the bed but old boxes, he flipped the flashlight off, feeling satisfied that he was safe.

But just as he did, there was another tap on the window.

Jamie jumped and cursed that stupid branch. He wrote a mental note to ask his mom to get someone to cut it down or he'd never get any sleep. But as he strained to see in the darkness, he realized that it wasn't the tree this time.

No, there was a _figure _outside his window.

Jamie dove back into the bed under the safety of his covers. Breathing heavily, he tried to convince himself that he was only imagining seeing the figure attempting to open the window. Of course, his mother made sure that it was locked only a few hours ago, and for that, he was grateful. It had to be just his mind playing tricks on him. He was only being paranoid.

"Jamie!"

The boy's heart nearly thumped out of his chest. The monster knew his name!

"Jamie, open the window!" Jamie began to panic again, but then he realized something. That voice was familiar. He knew that voice!

"Jack?" He sat up and the blanket fell off of him. Relief flooded through his body as he looked back towards the window. Sure enough, he could now recognize the shadowy figure of his best friend's petite body. Feeling a little silly, he took a deep breath and climbed out of bed to open the window for the winter spirit.

"Jeeze, Jack, it's two in the morning! What are you doing here?"

"The look on your face was priceless." The teen's lips curled into a playful smirk, stifling a laugh for his friend. Jamie slapped his arm lightheartedly.

"That doesn't answer my question," he grinned up at Jack. He had his hood pulled up tight around his head so only his face was visible.

"What, I'm not allowed to visit my favorite little playmate?" The older boy ruffled Jamie's hair affectionately.

"Not before the sun's up. And I have school tomorrow, remember?"

"Sorry, I forgot about the time. It was midmorning in Russia. Time zones, y'know?"

"Well, I guess I can stay up for a little while," Jamie decided. It's not like Jack was interrupting sleep, anyway. When Jack turned back to look at him, he noticed his eyes looked weird. Lighter than usual, or maybe just more tired. Or maybe it was just how they looked in the dark. "As long as I don't wake up Mom and Sophie."

"Excellent," Jack exclaimed a little too loudly. Jamie shushed him quickly. His mother wouldn't hear Jack, but _Sophie _would. And Mrs. Bennett could _definitely _hear Sophie. He didn't dare to move a muscle until he was sure nobody was disturbed. Then he let out a sigh of relief.

"Uh, I mean, _cool_," Jack spoke up, barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry.

"It's okay. Are you gonna make it snow, Jack? November's almost over."

"Um, maybe." Jack seemed confused for a split second, but he shook it off with a flash of white teeth.

"Can you make it snow in my room again?" Sure, Jamie'd grown since the first time he met Jack Frost, but he could never seem to get enough of the winter spirit making his snow; especially in places it shouldn't be.

"Maybe another time," the hooded boy shrugged.

"Oh, okay." Jamie's face fell, but it lit up instantly at another thought. "Hey, I almost forgot! I wrote a paragraph about you for school!" He rushed to his desk, which was littered with papers, writing utensils, and homework. He dug through the messy stack and pulled out a slightly wrinkled sheet.

"What for?"

"We had to write something about our best friend." He handed Jack the paper. "My English teacher gives us really weird assignments, for seventh grade." Jamie's handwriting was legible enough to read perfectly, and the words were organized in cursive on the blue lines. "Oh, do you need a light on?"

"No, I can read it." Jamie raised his eyebrows. He could barely see a foot in front of him, but maybe Jack could do weird things, he thought.

_'My best friend's name is Jack, and he's the coolest guy you'll ever meet. I've known him since I was eight years old. His hair is snow white and he has vibrant blue eyes. I helped him fight Pitch Black, and we've been very close ever since. When my friends and I are bored, he throws a little fun into our day by starting a giant snowball war. He's really understanding and nice to everyone he meets. He's a guardian and he protects children around the world. I'm excited for winter so he can bring us more fun in the snow.'_

Jack's eyes scanned the large red comments from the teacher at the top of the page. 'Great job, Jamie! You have a big imagination!' The boy got full credit.

"You're not embarrassed to talk about me at school?" Jack asked, looking down at Jamie with surprise.

"Why would I be? You're real, I know that. And who knows, maybe it'll get you a few more believers, huh?" Jack nodded slowly, but he didn't look as happy as Jamie hoped he'd be.

"It's nice," he concluded finally, handing the paper back to his friend. "Thanks, Jamie."

"I don't like how Mrs. Winston wrote that I have a big imagination, though. I guess she's not very open-minded. I'm sorry."

"It's cool," Jack shrugged nonchalantly. Jamie's eyes squinted in confusion. He kenw his best friend was usually hurt by comments like that, no matter who they were from. Although he hid it behind a bright grin, it was obvious to Jamie that Jack cared. But it didn't seem that way, now. He was casually leaning against the wall, a smirk plastered to his lips. Jamie shrugged, deciding to take it as a good thing that Jack didn't mind so much. Suddenly, the older boy's eyes widened as he looked at the alarm clock on the nightstand.

"Woah, I've gotta go, kid, I'm sorry. I gotta be…somewhere."

"Alright," Jamie rubbed his eyes. He was too tired to hear the odd tone his friend's voice took on. "I should probably get to bed anyway. School."

"Of course," Jack nodded in agreement. "Well, goodnight."

"Goodnight, Jack. Work on the snow, okay? Please?"

"I'll see what I can do." The teen reached into his pocket, chuckling softly. Pale hands scooped up a little pile of something, dropping it to the floor at his feet. Jamie didn't see. "Sweet dreams, kiddo." With that, Jack Frost zipped out the window with a smirk.

Jamie shut the window and climbed into bed, a wave of tiredness rushing over him. He was wide awake not a minute ago…but it _was _late. 2:36 AM, the alarm clock read. So he closed his tired brown eyes, giving into sleep almost instantly.

So he didn't notice the black nightmare sand gather into a stream from where Jack had been standing, gracefully swirling towards the sleeping boy's head.


End file.
